He lukt into shops at tarts, an penny ducks, an blood puddins, an all sooarts o' things; but he'd hed them all monny a time, an he wanted summat fresh.
At last he went into th' markit place, an after he'd luk'd raand, wi' th' brass fair burnin a hoil in his pocket for want o' spendin, he coom to a stawl whear a chap wor shaatin aght:
"Hoisters! reeal natives! a penny apiece!"
Nah he'd nivver tasted a hoister i' all his life, it wor summat new, soa he went up to th' chap an axt for one.
Th' man gate hold o' one an started o' oppenin it wi' his knife, but th' lad sed—
"Howd on, aw say, that's a varry little en, aw want a reight daan big un—th' biggest one yo' hev i'th place."
"If yo' want a reight big un," th' man sed, "aw con sewt yo' up to th' mark," an he went behund th' stawl, an in a hawf minnit he coom back wi' one abaat as big as a pan lid. It wor oppened, an th' fish wor liggin on th' shell i'th center, abaat three inches across.
"Will this sewt yo'," he sed.
"That'll do," th' lad sed, "aw like a fair sized un."
He put some pepper an vinegar on it, an handed it to th' lad an sed, "Aw dooant think yo' can manage it, sir."